


Who knew?

by oldenuf2nb



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drabble, Post-War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-12-18
Updated: 2007-12-18
Packaged: 2018-10-27 16:30:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,198
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10812702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oldenuf2nb/pseuds/oldenuf2nb
Summary: Harry, Draco & Hot Chocolate





	Who knew?

**Author's Note:**

> Note from Annie, the archivist: this story was originally archived at [The Quidditch Pitch](http://fanlore.org/wiki/The_Quidditch_Pitch), which went offline in 2015 when the hosting expired, at a time I was not able to renew it. I contacted Open Doors, hoping to preserve the archive using an old backup, and began importing these works as an Open Doors-approved project in April 2017. Open Doors e-mailed all authors about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [The Quidditch Pitch collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/thequidditchpitch/profile).
> 
>  **Author's notes:** Written for Rospberry for the TQP December 2007 Secret Elf Challenge

“Here.”

Harry Potter’s shoulders stiffened as he turned and looked behind him, appearing startled when he found Draco Malfoy standing in the aisle behind the wide table, and cup in his hand.  He gestured for Harry to take it, and the green eyes narrowed.

“Oh, for God’s sake, Potter,” Malfoy said with a huff.  “If I wanted to poison you, there are better ways.”

“I didn’t think you were trying to poison me,” Harry retorted, reaching out to take the mug.  “You’re far more subtle than that.”

One of Malfoys brows quirked.  “Thank you.” He shot Harry a sideways look.  “I think.” Harry did a creditable impersonation of the Malfoy smirk as the slender young man clambered gracefully over the top of the wide table and sat next to Harry facing the dancing flames in the huge fireplace, his feet on the bench.  “Budge over,” he ordered imperiously, and Harry shot him a look, but scooted slightly to his left.

“Bossy, much?” he asked wryly.

“Hey, it’s the Slytherin table.  I get the warmest spot.”

Harry just shook his head and took a sip of his cocoa, then made an appreciative sound.  “This is good,” he said finally, cupping his hands around the mug.

“Of course it is,” Malfoy responded imperturbably.  “And I don’t know who it was who first decided to mix chocolate and sugar and milk and then heat it, but they should be canonized.”

“St. Cocoa of the marshmallows,” Harry said, full lips quirking.

“Sounds like the name of a tired drag queen,” Malfoy quipped, and Harry chuckled.  It was a deep, sultry sound, and Draco tried to ignore the way it fired little pheromones throughout his body.  Draco took a sip of his cocoa, then glanced to the side and studied Harry’s strong profile.  “So,” he said finally, conversationally, but Harry wasn’t fooled.  “Why exactly are you here over Christmas hols?  Didn’t the weasel invite you to his house?”

Surprisingly, Harry didn’t rise to the bait.  He just shrugged.  “He’s going to Hermione’s this year.  They invited me, but…”

“Ah, third wheel syndrome.”  Draco nodded knowingly.  

“Quite.”  Harry stared into the flames, and they reflected in the lenses of his glasses.  “Mrs. Weasley invited me there, too, but what with Ginny and everything…it just felt awkward.”

 “With her and Longbottom, you mean,” Draco said ironically.  

Now Harry did bristle.  “I like Neville,” he said a bit sharply. 

“I know that you do,” Draco said, turning to look him straight in the face for the first time.  “But don’t try to tell me that it doesn’t bother you that while you were out fighting an insane megalomaniac, Longbottom was back here plucking your supposed girlfriends cherry.”

Harry grimaced, his eyes still on the flames.  “Not so much as it probably should,” he said with a wry twist of his lips, and Draco frowned.

The unlikely friendship that had developed between Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy since the Battle of Hogwarts was as much a surprise to the two of them as it was to anyone else.  But after Draco’s refusal to identify Harry for his father and the Death Eaters, and Harry’s daring broom borne rescue of Draco from the Room of Requirement, the animosity of their younger years seemed to have burned away in the Fiendfyre.  And as two of the relatively small number of ‘eighth years’ who had returned to finish their education, they’d found themselves less and less likely to engage in school boy pissing contests, and more and more apt to just…spend time together.  Ron wasn’t completely thrilled, but with his free time predominantly occupied by his new fiancé, and with the awkward situation with Ginny, he really didn’t have much to say about it.

“I still don’t get why you stayed here, alone, when you had other invites,” Draco said a bit darkly, his grey eyes going to the flames.  He himself had had no choice this holiday; his father was back in Azkaban, the family fortune had been seized, and he was at Hogwarts on scholarship, as much for his own safety as his education.  And what with his mother in the south of France with a new lover, and all of his former friends no longer willing to speak to him, his choices were extremely limited. Harry said something under his breath, and it took Draco a moment to process it.  When he did, he looked at the dark haired boy quickly.  “What did you say?”

“I said,” Harry repeated more loudly, turning to look at Draco, “I’m not alone.”

He stared for a long time, green eyes wide and watchful on Draco’s.  Anger rose to replace the despondency of just a moment before.  

“Oh, you did not,” he said heatedly, face flushing.

“’Did not’ what?” Harry asked, but his eyes shifted.

“Did not stay here because you felt sorry for me?” He stared at Harry for another long moment, and finally the green eyes dropped away.  “You did!  You fucking prat, I don’t need your bloody pity…”

Draco started to move away, but Harry’s hand curled hard around his slender wrist, and he set his own cup aside, then removed Draco’s from his hand and set it behind him carefully before raising his eyes again.  “I don’t feel sorry for you,” he said starkly. “Not even remotely.  And yes, I stayed here to be with you.”

“Why?” Draco said, brow furrowed.  

“Why?” He laughed a little wildly.  “You can’t guess?  In the same way that you can’t figure out why Ginny being with Neville doesn’t really bother me?”

Draco’s mouth dropped open and his eyes widened slightly, but there was scarcely time for more before Harry reached up and curled his hand around the blonds slender nape, yanked him in, and covered his mouth with his own.  Draco opened his mouth in surprise, which provided Harry with precisely the advantage he needed to send his tongue on a slow, thorough exploration of the Draco’s back teeth.  When he finally drew back, Draco’s lips were pink and swollen, and his eyes were very wide.  “Oh,” he said faintly, voice rough.

“Oh?” Harry said as he studied his face nervously.  “Just…oh?”

“No,” Draco said softly, drawing out the word.  “Maybe,” a slow grin began to pull at those puffy lips, “oh boy?  Or, oh-kay? Or, oh yeah, baby…” he leaned in towards Harry’s mouth again.

“How about,” Harry gave him a gentle shove in the center of his chest, pushing him onto his back on the table top and then leaning over him, one strong hand sliding up his chest as he pressed into him. “Oh, Harry. Yes, Harry.”

Draco’s lips curved in a slow, sultry smile and his hands slipped around Harry’s strong neck.  “Oh, Harry.  Yes, Harry,” he breathed.

“Who knew you could be so agreeable?” Harry grinned.

“Depends on what you’re offering,” Draco retorted.

“You know what I’m offering,” Harry said a bit roughly before covering Draco’s mouth once again with his own.

The fire crackling merrily in the grate was the only sound after that for a very long time, but for breathless sighs and needy moans and then quiet, heartfelt cries.


End file.
